


Space Oddity

by hazelandglasz



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fluff, IN SPACE!, M/M, Space Battles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 05:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6458539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Klaine<br/>IN SPACE</p><p>*written as a birthday gift for @crazie-crissie*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Space Oddity

The first thing Kurt does as he emerges from the transfer platform is to check that no limb got lost in the teleportation.

God knows that the teleporting equipment aboard the McK1Ley are ancient enough that it has happened in the past.

He just puts his hands all over himself and steps away from the platform.

Lord, he knew that Dalt-1 was a busy ship, but not  _ that  _ busy.

So much people, rushing everywhere it’s making him dizzy.

“Excuse me?”

He stops someone passing him by--a Captain, by the look of the double winged  [ insignia  ](http://g02.a.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1C9hYJVXXXXXlaXXXq6xXFXXX3/3D-Alloy-Metal-Angel-Hawk-font-b-Wings-b-font-Emblem-Badge-Decal-font-b-Car.jpg) on his uniform.

The man turns to look at him, putting a timing device back in the pocket of his pristinely pressed jacket.

“I’m new here,” Kurt says, fidgeting with the hem of his own jacket--a second-hand one he has found to match his new ship’s colors. “I’ve been instructed to serve on the War-BLRs level, but I have no idea where to go.”

The man’s face seems to transform with his smile, beaming like the legendary Star from Old Earth. “I’m Captain Anderson,” he tells Kurt, raising his hand in the universal salutation gesture.

“Lieutenant Hummel--Kurt, sir,” Kurt replies, lifting his hand to return the salute.

“Welcome aboard, Kurt,” Captain Anderson says, nodding at him to follow. “Come on, I know a shortcut to the Warblers floor.”

“Warblers?”

Cptn. Anderson chuckles as he gently pushes Kurt away from a running group of Walkyries--it will take Kurt a while to get use to the extra-human specie and their tendencies to just run blindly. “You’ll find out yourself that the War, Bulwarks, Lasers and Rays operators such as you and me have a tendency to … whistle and sing, to keep their sanity.” He pauses as he opens a sliding door. “At least aboard Dalt-1, that is.”

The door leads to a staircase, and another door opens to a brightly lighted room. “Pretty cool,” Kurt whistles under his breath as he looks at the new floor. It’s not that different from the rest of the ship, but it’s definitely warmer. “Is that … is that primitive wood?”

Cptn. Anderson’s smile turns into a gentle smirk. “It looks like it, doesn’t it? We got permission to arrange it to our convenience--Warblers are rockstars on a first range battleship afterall.”

Kurt nods, astonished to find himself assigned to such a prestigious battalion.

And to think, the War-BLR unit was treated with contempt on the McK1Ley.

Looking around, Kurt can only notice how his battered uniform sets him apart in a sea of pristine ones. “Gosh, I stick like a sore thumb,” he mutters, trying to cross his arms over the patches and stains he couldn’t get rid of on his jacket.

Cptn. Anderson looks back at him, an order already appearing on his wrist-messenger. “You’ll find a complete set of uniforms and clothes on your left, third door in the hall,” he tells him before winking at Kurt, reaching to smooth down Kurt’s collar. “You’ll fit right in, new kid.”

As he goes to give his orders and channel the command to his crew, Kurt can’t help the ear-to-ear smile that spreads on his face.

“Welcome aboard, Lieutenant Hummel,” the officer in charge of the uniforms tells him with a warm attitude--pretty hard to smile with a beak.

“Thank you, Officer …?”

The Parulidae ruffles the feathers around their neck and produces a sound which, while musical, is pretty difficult to interpret.

Kurt’s confusion must show on his face, as the officer shrugs their wings. “Most humans call me Pavarotti around here.”

“Thank you, Officer Pavarotti,” Kurt says, trying to make the name as melodious--and as close to Parulidese--as he can with just one set of vocal chords.

“You speak Parulidese?” 

Kurt nearly drops his pile of clothes, surprised by Anderson’s voice just at the exit of the mess.

“Yessir,” he replies, maintaining the balance of his charge before pressing the Zero-G button to make it float behind him. “Along with Titanese, and a rudiment of Nyadese.”

The captain looks suitably impressed and he cocks his head to the side. “That might be useful in the days to come,” he says. “Do you have your living quarters?”

“Yessir.”

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Cptn. Anderson says, putting his hands in his pockets. “And, Lieutenant?”

“Yes?”

“Call me Blaine.”

\---

“Take cover!”

Kurt shouts into the microset attached to his ear as he aims the laser to the attacking ship.

All the hands are on deck, the whole floor activating beams and shields to defend the Dalt-1 and the line it keeps while they wait for the rest of the armada.

From the corner of his eyes, Kurt can see Blaine, along with the Triumvirate that leads their unit, observing the battle and issuing new orders.

Blaine’s eyes find his, and Blaine takes the time to smile comfortingly at Kurt.

Kurt quickly looks back at his own quadrant, his cheeks heating up as they often do when he sees Blaine.

Talks with Blaine, harmonizes with Blaine, thinks of Blaine …

_ Jesus, how pathetic can you get. _

“Kurt, look out!”

The shouted thrill is the last thing Kurt hears before the pain of the hit to his extended beam starts radiating in his corporeal self and his brain shuts down.

\---

When he wakes up, Kurt is momentarily blinded by how bright the lights are.

“Turn the lights down, turn them down.”

Kurt turns his head towards the familiar voice as someone turns the lights down to a glimmer. “B-Blaine?”

A shadow comes in his line of vision, and it takes him a solid minute before his eyes can focus on his captain.

“What happened to you?!”

Blaine reaches up for the patch covering his right eye. “Nothing permanent, I assure you,” he says softly. “Don’t agitate yourself, you were in a suspended state for the past week.”

“What happened?” Kurt insists, trying to sit up.

Blaine’s hands are on him in flash, warm and soothing as he supports Kurt’s torso and helps him into a better position.

“The S’teroids launched a sneak attack on us, that no radar could have picked on,” Blaine explains. “It started with all the extended weapons, freezing the beams operators, like--like you, before moving into the vents and projecting micro-knives into the ship. I got one in my eye, but some officers were more severely injured.”

“Did we--did we lose someone?” Kurt asks when Blaine looks down, a painful frown on his face. Kurt reaches down for Blaine’s hand. “Please, Blaine. Tell me.”

“The Parulidis,” Blaine murmurs. “The weapon appears to have been specifically designed to take them down.”

Kurt’s eyes fill with tears. “Pavarotti,” he says, voice barely above a whisper as he thinks of one of his best friends aboard the battleship.

Blaine stays silent, but he nods, covering Kurt’s hand with his own. “They were covering your body with their own to keep you from getting hurt when you passed out from the pain.”

Kurt wipes the tears from his face and straightens up. “We should honor their memory,” he says, voice still shaking. “In proper Parulidese tradition.”

“A ceremony is planned to take place as soon as all the officers are cleared from the infirmary,” Blaine tells him. “But I don’t think a specifically Parulidese ritual has been organized.”

“I’ll do it,” Kurt tells him.

“I’ll check with the remaining Walkyries and the Baucis if they want to honor their deads too,” Blaine says softly, tightening his hold on Kurt’s hand. “I’m glad--I’m glad you woke up,” he adds before standing up. “I’ll come back later?”

The question is not lost on Kurt, and it shows a new facet of his commanding officer.

One that only makes him more desirable in Kurt’s eyes.

“As you wish,” Kurt replies with a shy smile.

Blaine’s smile turns shy too as he looks down, adjusting his eyepatch before pressing the button to open the door.

And Kurt falls back to sleep, dreams wrapped around a soft smile and Parulidese harmonious, if sentimental, thrills.

\---

“I want Captain Hummel as my binomial.”

Kurt’s jaw reaches for the floor, but the rest of the team seems to agree with Blaine’s assessment.

“Congratulations on the rank up,” Trent whispers to Kurt with a clap to his back as the assembly spreads out, focusing on the repairs.

So Kurt is now a Captain, and he’s going to work side by side with Blaine on upgrading the beams and lasers to resist the S’teroids advanced weaponry.

“Why me?” Kurt asks while they’re in a private room, testing the micro-organisms with different materials to figure out a resistant alliage.

“Hm?”

“Why did you pick me to work with you on that mission?” Kurt asks, quietly observing the way Blaine moves around him, the delicate way he handles the tools and the different components.

Blaine pauses and looks at Kurt so intensely that, for a moment, Kurt thinks he overstepped his boundaries.

After all, Blaine, though his best friend on board, still outranks him.

And then Blaine licks his lips and puts his gloves and goggles down before closing his eyes, hands clenched on the side of the counter. “Kurt …,” he starts, voice shaking with repressed emotions. “Kurt, there is a--a moment,” he says, looking back at Kurt and not looking away. “A moment when you say to yourself ‘oh, it’s you. There you are’.”

Blaine takes a deep breath. “‘I’ve been looking for you through the whole galaxy’, you know?”

Kurt doesn’t dare moving or saying anything, lest he wakes up from this very realistic dream.

Blaine gulps down and takes a step closer to Kurt.

All Kurt can think about in this moment is ‘ _ oh, I’m taller than him _ ’.

So sue him.

“Watching you paying a tribute to our Parulidese corp, to Pavarotti, that--that was such a moment for me, Kurt,” Blaine says, tentatively covering Kurt’s hand with his own. “About you.”

_ I’mgoingtodiethisisit. _

“Y-you move me, Kurt,” Blaine continues, voice getting stronger and yet more vulnerable as he confesses feelings Kurt never imagined being returned--to  _ him _ \--, his hand clutching Kurt’s like a lifeline. “Faster than the fastest engine in the fleet, in ways that we have yet to achieve, I--this assignment, to work with you, it was simply an excuse to spend … spend more time with you.”

Kurt’s heart is going to jump from his ribcage, that’s it--or come out of his throat, either way, it’s making an escape.

Blaine gets even closer, turning to face Kurt fully, and he slowly moves onto his toes to press a kiss to Kurt’s lips.

_ Am I dead. _

_ Cause I’m fine with Death if it feels like this. _

Kurt can feel Blaine’s breath on his cheek, and that’s what wakes him up from his frozen state.

Before Blaine can pull away, he reaches down, cupping Blaine’s jaw and tilting his head a little bit more to the side to return the kiss, deepening it even.

Blaine whines into the kiss, his hands finding a slot on Kurt’s waist, pulling him even closer until their chests are pressed together.

They pull back, panting for breath and Kurt smiles as Blaine takes a step away, reaching for the back of his head.

His cheeks are flushed, and he has never looked more handsome.

“We should--” he clears his throat, and Kurt licks his lips. “We should go back to our experiments.”

“I thought we were.”


End file.
